


six feet under

by MutinousSeagulls



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, F/M, Gen, More angst, Multi, another warning that no character is safe, i can and will kill them, life fr half the characters are dead, lots of death, mentions of homophobia/hate crimes, pretty much just angst tbh, rated M for violence/gore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:21:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21519391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MutinousSeagulls/pseuds/MutinousSeagulls
Summary: Spending the remainder of his high school career in a desolate, empty “ghost” town was not how Callum had imagined his sophomore year to go. Then again, he hadn’t expected his freshman year to end with the death of his mother.In other words, Callum was doing just great.To make matters worse, he meets a girl. One that, by all that Callum knew, should be dead.Just like how, with all logical evidence, ghosts shouldn’t exist.-OR-the cringy modern/paranormal/really poorly written murder mystery au that no one asked for[discontinued. i might try starting over and writing it at a later date]
Relationships: Callum & Ezran (The Dragon Prince), Callum/Rayla (The Dragon Prince)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 51





	1. home

**Author's Note:**

> am i really posting this right before season 3 drops cuz i know the fandom will once again explode with activity? yes. yes i am.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> am i really posting this right before season 3 drops cuz i know the fandom will once again explode with activity? yes. yes i am.

**The air held a chill in Katolis. **Tall pine trees stretched on for seemingly miles as the expensive car rolled casually along the old road. 

Cold, empty, dead. A town so close to being a ghost that it wasn’t a wonder that the few things the internet held about his place related to the paranormal. It was like the beginning of a stereotypical mystery novel, and Callum wasn’t sure how he should feel about it.

The teenager briefly wondered why his step-dad had chosen this place specifically, with it being so far from any major cities, and yet so painfully close to the home Harrow seemed so intent on forgetting.

The brunet felt his brother’s weight on the back of his seat as his father flicked on the turn signal, the car drifting onto a thin, dirt road right outside of the entrance to the small town.

His breath hitched in his throat as the mansion came into view.

It looked like a castle, four tall towers stretching high alongside the treetops, grey stone withered down with age and aging bushes slowly spiraling out of control from years of neglect and abandonment, red flowers blooming despite the harsh cold that seemed to seep into everything that the shadows crawled across. Ivy stubbornly climbed the castle walls, circling around the corners and out of view.

A single thought crossed Callum’s mind, _ Mom would have loved this. _

Key words— would have.

Sarai King was dead. The evidence being the totaled car, her limp and bloodied body, the streaks of liquid rust across the city pavement. An image he had never seen, yet could clearly imagine whenever the topic drifted into his mind. The months of nightmares had drilled the sight into his memory.

“We’re moving into a castle?” an excited voice called from behind him.

“Seatbelt, Ezran.”

The child pouted, letting his body fall back into his seat, pulling the strap over his head from where it had rested behind his back.

Callum couldn’t ignore the flash of hurt that went across Harrow’s face as he spoke of his son’s safety. At least he hadn’t shut Ezran out.

After all, Ezran took more after _ his _ father. Callum knew that Harrow couldn’t look at him without seeing his deceased wife.

His solution was acting as if nothing was wrong, as if Sarai had never existed in the first place.

Callum wasn’t stupid though. No matter how “normal” Harrow tried to act, there was always that lingering sadness whenever he looked at his step-son. The pained glances at everything related to Sarai.

Callum hated it, how her name had become a form of highest profanity in their household. Speaking her name had so quickly become a sin.

The car pulled to a stop outside the front entrance to the castle. The air smelled of pine and cedar, with fallen needles crunching under his foot as he stepped out of the passenger seat, a small backpack slung over his shoulder. This all felt too familiar.

It brought him back to their frequent summertime visits to Aunt Amaya, running around in the woods behind her small house, their mother shouting after them, warning them to not wander too far.

Harrow locked the car door with a click of his key remote, and Callum tightened his grip on his backpack’s strap. He felt his younger brother’s presence beside him, a pet carrier holding a large, old cat clutched in his small hands. He could hear the feline grumbling from its position in the carrier. Callum had stopped paying attention to the cat’s grumpiness shortly after Ezran adopted it. It was just the way the foul creature acted, and Ezran loved the cat regardless.

The teenager was pretty sure that the cat would murder a person if they as much as looked at the child the wrong way.

Callum tore his gaze away from the pet carrier, Instead opting to walk towards the front entrance, where Harrow had unlocked the front door, propping it open and heading inside.

“The movers arrived yesterday, so the only stuff that needs to be unpacked are the boxes in your rooms.”

Right. That was going to be new.

In their old house — or, in official terminology, _ penthouse _ — Ezran and Callum’s bedrooms had been conjoined by a large door, easily having been propped open almost 24/7.

He didn’t think it had ever been shut since the accident.

Now, their rooms were undoubtedly separate. Just another new, unfamiliar problem he would have to deal with.

This was reality now.

“The two of you have bedrooms next to each other,” Harrow explained, motioning up the staircase. “Go through the door on the right to reach the sleeping quarters. They’re the two at the end of the hall.”

Callum nodded, placing a hand on his brother’s shoulder and gently steering him towards the staircase.

His gaze caught on the stained glass window that sat along the landing’s wall.

There was a blue dragon. It’s body curled around the edge of the delicate frame, as if the creature was trying to escape its glass prison.

It’s sapphire eyes followed him.

He spent no time dwelling on the obviously priceless artwork, continuing up the stairs and into the hall Harrow had directed them too.

As expected, the rooms weren’t conjoined.

They mirrored each other, with matching fireplaces on the same wall, and two lofts that held the entrances to stairs that led up to the two towers.

This was his home now.

It didn’t feel like home.

  
**• • •**

  
  


Despite opting to skip dinner, having been exhausted from easily over twelve hours of constant driving, he didn’t get a wink of sleep that night. The unfamiliar mattress was stiff against his back, and the large room was easily five times the size of his old one. The high ceilings left him feeling exposed; despite the tall windows on the far wall, little light entered the room. Ivy vines covered the windows, creating strange shadows that Callum honestly found himself unable to dismiss as _ just _ shadows.

Then, there was a figure. A shadow by the door.

He turned his head sharply, only to be greeted by Ezran walking into his room. A grumpy orange cat now resting contently in his arms.

“Callum, do you think I can sleep in your room tonight?” the child asked.

“What? Ezran, it’s…” Callum groaned, rolling over in his _ very _ uncomfortable bed, picking up his phone from its position on the bedside table, “3:12 AM. Can’t you just go back to sleep?”

The child stiffened, carefully shuffling across the cold tile floor further into the room, closer to him.

His pleading gaze answered that question.

Callum sighed, “What’s wrong with your room here?”

“I don’t know. It’s cold in there.”

Callum’s eyes burned into Ezran, curiosity growing. He flipped his tangled knot of blankets to the side, tiredly pulling himself up and walking past his brother and out into the hall, turning to face the entrance to the room next to him. He opened the door, immediately being hit with a gust of cold air.

He was suddenly aware of why Ezran had left his room. It was incredibly dark in this room, the high ceilings and tall windows doing little to let in the natural moonlight. The ivy vines seemed to cover every inch of the glass. The walls were painted a dark blue, a striking contrast to the plain tan walls in the mirrored room. He flicked on the light, concern filling his mind as it flickered violently for a solid five seconds before settling into a bright orange glow.

He immediately hated the bedroom, the idea of his ten-year-old brother sleeping in there, _ alone _, scared him. He didn’t want Ezran to know that small detail though.

“Do you want to switch rooms? The heater is probably just broken in here. The furniture is the same, we just need to switch the boxes and it’ll be fine.”

“Really?” Ezran asked, and Callum hated how much disbelief filled that statement.

“Yeah. It’s just a bedroom. They’re exactly the same, except I’m certain lighter colors suit you more. If you want, we might be able to convince Harrow to let us share a room.”

The breath was knocked out of him as the child suddenly engulfed him in a hug. He was shaking.

A bad feeling entered Callum’s stomach.

He had a feeling that he had just made a huge mistake, though he didn’t quite know why. He only knew that they needed to get _ out _ of that room

He flicked off the light, the unease only growing in the darkness. He quickly led the child out of the bedroom, shutting the door firmly behind it.

Whatever it was about that room, he could handle it.

After all, he’d do anything for his brother.

The warm presence of the child filled his body as Ezran curled up at his side.

For the last few hours of that night, he found himself content. His eyes drifting closed as his mind was drawn away from the odd creaking of old wood, away from the cold feeling of someone’s eyes burning his skin.

He let himself sleep.

  
  
  
**• • •**

  
  
  
  
  


When 7 AM finally drew around, Callum had to get up for school.

That was yet another thing he wasn’t looking forward to.

Public education.

He’d rather just continue online school, but Harrow had thought it’d be good for him to get out. Soren and Claudia were at the school, he knew them.

When the traces of sunlight drew across his face, he threw back the covers and crawled out of bed, ignoring a tired protest from his brother.

“Come on, Ez. We have to face reality at some point.”

Listening to the tired agreement of the child as his mess of dark hair slowly shifted under the blanket, Callum grabbed an outfit from his box of clothes. He made his way across the room to the light switch, glaring at the loft as he did so. The room’s bathroom was up there, happily inconveniencing anyone whom may have had trouble climbing a small, steep spiral staircase.

The loft was a place that really set Callum on edge. The floors creaked relentlessly, as if they were held together by nothing more than a couple of toothpicks, ready to snap and fall all together. When he had showered last night, he’d had the eerie feeling of being watched haunt him.

Callum wasn’t one to believe in paranormal things. There was no way of proving that the fabled ghouls and monsters that stalked the night existed, why should he believe in them? Sure, some places were creepy — _ especially _ creepy — but it wasn’t as if creepiness could hurt you.

He changed quickly, leaving his clothes in a pile on the floor that he promised himself he would clean up later (spoiler alert— he had no intention of picking up his mess). As soon as he was out of the room, he was suddenly aware of how painfully tired he was.

Caffeine could fix that.

He grabbed his hastily put-together messenger backpack from by the door, and went out into the hallway, ignoring the feeling of eyes following him from that other door.

He and Ezran had decided to do a bit of exploring the day before. Strangely enough, the house seemed to have a reverse-tarsus effect, looking bigger on the outside and smaller on the inside. The second story consisted of two “wings”. The one on the right holding all of the main, fancy bedrooms and the one on the left holding the ballroom. Why they needed a ballroom? Callum hadn’t a clue. It was a large waste of space, covering half of the castle’s space easily.

The first floor was more condensed, with several guest bedrooms filling the two halls, and the far end holding the kitchen and dining room, as well as a large library that took up most of the space under the ballroom.

Callum wasn’t surprised when he entered the kitchen to find that Harrow was already awake, a mug of cold coffee set by him on the breakfast table as he typed away on his laptop. The teen quietly grabbed a mug from the cabinet, pouring a cup of black coffee from the heated pot.

Normally he’d put in a copious amount of cream and sugar into the black liquid, but he didn’t have the motivation to shuffle through everything since he had no clue where the sugar was currently kept.

He brought the mug to his lips, fighting back a grimace as the scalding liquid slipped down his throat, the bitter flavor leaving a foul aftertaste in his throat.

“Is Ezran coming down after you? The schools aren’t that far, I could drive the two of you—“

“No. Thanks.”

Callum ignored the hurt in Harrow’s eyes.

“I was going to just walk. I don’t want people seeing the fancy car and, you know.”

Harrow nodded, “Of course. That’s perfectly reasonable. I wouldn’t have wanted people to befriend me simply because I had access to a bit of money either.”

A tight smile planted itself onto Callum’s face.

“Right, so I’m just gonna… get going.”

Harrow nodded, and Callum grabbed a random fruit from a basket on the breakfast table, ignoring the fact that it was probably meant to be a decoration. He downed the rest of his bitter coffee, placing the mug by the sink and taking a bite of the fruit — a very bland and flavorless apple.

The cold air outside filled his lungs as he walked down the driveway.

He was not looking forward to his time in this house. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this work was heavily inspired by a few things, like the beetlejuice musical, this creepy experience i had outside my dorm the other day, and one of my favorite danny phantom fanfics (a snapping sound. pls, go read it. it's amazing.)
> 
> anyway, after the drama with **ron *hasz, i kinda tried to force myself to stop writing tdp stuff. considering i'm posting a new tdp fanfic, i'd say that plan failed miserably. i love this show too much, though justice will not be denied when it comes to the creator.
> 
> anyway, pls leave a comment or kudos if you enjoyed!! if you notice any grammar/spelling mistakes pls dont hesitate to let me know! this is my first time actively trying to write a story like this, and i wrote like half of it in the middle of the night lol


	2. startouched

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Callum goes to school.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized a few minor, story-based mistakes when I re-read this chapter this morning, so I kinda panicked and deleted this chapter so I could quickly edit it.

**The walk down the thin path was short and dull,** with tall evergreens hanging over his head and casting a filtered light on the road. Entering town, it wasn’t hard to locate the high school. The few teenagers loitering around on the sidewalk made sure of that.

There wasn’t much to the main street. Houses were placed here and there, along with clusters of shops and the occasional restaurant. As he walked, his eye caught on a small house. There was a strange attachment to to patio, and Callum could recognize a large, metal oven. There was a man there, leaning over a large piece of silver.

His gaze drifted upwards, meeting Callum’s stare. There was a flicker of recognition, as if he’d seen him before. Callum wouldn’t be surprised considering Harrow was the CEO of some company Callum was determined to never learn the name of. (Really though, he’d made it so clear that he had no interest in that business, despite Harrow’s attempts to put him in line for ownership.) The man’s eyes were filled with sadness, with a grief much like his own. The man broke his stare, turning back to the metal in his hands, taking a small hammer and resuming his work. Callum forced himself to look away. In a town this small, he would learn about the man before long.

For such a sleepy, desolate place, the kids were loud. Obnoxious. Callum found the school easily. He could feel a headache forming as he left the sidewalk, making his way up a set of stone steps and into a bleak, monotone building.

The school was small, that much was obvious as he walked inside. The entire building seemed to be made up of a long corridor with branching hallways cutting into the uniform line.

Unfortunately for him, that meant he had little to no chance of avoiding the two people he had slowly grown to dead meeting.

“ _ Callum! _ ”

And there they were.

Claudia wrapped her arms around him from behind, hoisting him upwards into a death grip— er…  _ hug _ .

“Claudia- please— I can’t breath—“

The older girl seemed to  _ thankfully _ get the message, quickly letting Callum fall to the floor. He steadied himself, turning to face the two siblings that he’d grown up with. Claudia was dressed in all black, everything about her style screaming “angsty teen goth who can and will murder you without a second thought”. The goofy, ever-present smile on her face seemed to cancel out any fear she may have been trying to bring.

“‘Sup dude,” a voice called from behind the girl, “we heard you moved into the creepy haunted castle outside of town.”

Sure enough, there was Soren. Claudia’s Thing 1. The inseparable duo that caused any and all adults to run away with hopes of remaining sane.

“So we were given permission to show you around, get you your schedule, etc. etc. Is that cool?” Claudia asked, her expression remaining perfect and happy.

Callum was jealous.

He tried to force the presence of an unneeded feeling down, Claudia didn’t deserve his anger just because she happened to be happy.

It was funny, a year ago he would’ve melted at her actions. Now he was just numb. Annoyed.

“Yeah,” he managed to spit out, “super cool.”

He internally cringed at how dead and super  _ not _ cool he’d sounded at that statement.

Wait, no. His tone wasn’t dead. Dead meant deceased. Deceased mean mom.

Wow. There he went again. Being depressing.

He wouldn’t compare his mom to a lame sentence. She wouldn’t have replied with something so lame, she’d make a joke out of it. She’d say something witty and clever.

Callum was not witty or clever.

Soren stiffened, “Um, your house isn’t  _ really _ haunted, by the way,” he quickly added on to his previous statement, “that’s just a dumb rumor.”

Callum nodded.

Claudia thankfully didn’t seem to notice his tense mood, taking him by the hand and leading him down the hall.

They stopped in front of a half-door, a bell carefully set on the frame by a clipboard with spaces for students to sign in if they happened to be late. Claudia didn’t spare it a second glance, opening the bottom half on the door and walking in, as if she did this all the time. Claudia briefly smiled at the two ladies working in the attendance office and led them down a long hallway, stopping at a door with a fogged window.

She knocked once, a soft voice calling from inside, giving them permission to enter.

Callum was immediately hit with the distinct scent of vanilla and lavender, noticing the several candles set up around the room. It was a small office, but something about it seemed open, freeing. A statue of a dragonfly sat upon the back bookshelf, several books detailing various types of academics filling the space around it. The colors seemed vibrantly muted, deep shades of gold and maroon decorating the space and covering the furniture.

A redheaded woman sat behind the center desk, her hair tied up neatly in a low bun and a simple, black dress draped over her shoulders and engulfing her frame.

“Ms. Evenere, this is Callum. Has his schedule been printed yet?”

The woman’s eyes lit up slightly, holding a silent warmth that was all too familiar.

Callum decided in that moment that he hated this woman.

“Of course! Callum King, correct?” she asked, gently opening the drawer on the side of her desk, “Opheli mentioned that you were transferring.”

She pulled out a folder of papers that Callum could already tell were filled with details about himself. Every grade he’d had since kindergarten.

A bleak, average student. 80% in pretty much every class other than art.

Art was the one class he reserved his effort for.

“It would appear you have English first, along with Claudia. She requested to have your schedule mirror hers as much as possible, though the one class she couldn’t join you for was art,” the woman explained.

“I understand.”

“Isn’t that great, Callum?” Claudia enthused, “You don't have to be the awkward new kid that knows no one!”

“Yeah. Wonderful.”

If the woman — whom Callum now saw was the guidance counselor, by the plaque on her desk — noticed his unenthusiastic mood, she said nothing. At least he could appreciate that, not trying to pry into other students business like the ones he remembered from elementary and early middle school.

“I believe you’re all set, unless you happen to have any questions.”

“No, thank you.”

“Well then, I’m sure Claudia would love to show you around.”

Claudia smiled, and Callum nodded.

The two of them left the room. Callum hated how awkward and rude he was being. But the woman, Ms. Evan-ree or whoever, acted so similarly to Sarai. The same regal, queen-like posture, the same soft tone of voice, the same warmth in her eyes.

Wow. Literally everything was reminding him of his mother now.

He was still bitter, he knew that much.

He wasn’t going to forget Sarai. No matter how much Harrow wished he would.

  
  
  
  
**• • •**

  
  
  
  
  


The school day passed painfully slowly, with Callum narrowly avoiding the curious gazes of students who wished to speak with him. The only one who succeeded was a senior who went by the name of Nyx, and that was because she was some cute Australian transfer student who was apparently a master when it came to fencing (or, in Soren’s awestruck defense, “modern-day sword fighting”).

Needless to say, by the time the final bell rang, he didn’t wait for anyone. He grabbed his backpack and sprinted to the door.

… okay, he walked. Very quickly. The last thing he wanted was to be stopped and reprimanded by a teacher who didn’t even know who he was.

The air outside fogged at each breath. He pulled out his phone, quickly googling the location of the nearest cafe, and heading down onto the sidewalk.

It took only a few minutes to arrive, and Callum casually walked in, took one look at the menu, and ordered the sweetest thing there. A pumpkin spice latte — only with extra pumpkin and less latte — and two jelly tarts. He’d give one of the pastries to Ezran later.

He had to make up for the sad excuse of black coffee he had that morning  _ somehow _ .

The cafe was small, the walls covered in old, wooden bookshelves. There was a tiny staircase that led to the second story — which was really just a tiny box with a few couches and a coffee table.

There’s the violent honk of a car’s horn outside the cafe, the sound of a vehicle skidding to an abrupt stop. Callum inhaled sharply, his head snapping to the window of the cafe. An old truck had stalled at the corner. That was it.

A young woman stood on the opposite side of the street. Long dark hair braided neatly and thrown over her shoulder, face half-covered in soot as skin peeled back, blood pooling and gently crawling down her chin, running down her arm as bits of her body began eroding away, revealing muscle, shattered bones peaking through the red. Her hair unraveled, locks squirming loose from their grip on her shattered skull and rolling down as the blood grew thicker and thicker. Slowly dripping, slowly falling to the concrete below, flowing to the road and stretching across the pavement in long, rust-colored streaks. Her eyes bore straight into him.

Those stupid, stupid eyes that he couldn’t bare to look at, yet at the same time couldn’t bare to avert his gaze. Those eyes that, no matter the situation, still remained warm, full of life.

The car started again, and she was gone.

“Pumpkin spice latte for Callum!” a voice called out.

He tore his gaze away from the window, inhaling deeply. It was nothing. Just a simple daydream.

It hadn’t been the first time it’s happened, it wouldn’t be the last.

But it had been the first time it had felt so  _ real _ . So explicit.

He quickly grabbed his coffee and the bag holding the heated jelly tarts. Settling in a table hidden in the corner, he pulled out his phone and googled his new address.

He clicked on the first result.

_ Startouched Castle _

It was some cryptic paranormal storytelling website.

_ This gorgeous countryside palace isn’t as innocent and charming as it may initially seem. The Startouched Castle has been the site of paranormal speculation ever since it was first built in the late 19th century. The original owner was a wealthy man under the name of Avizandum Xadia, who mysteriously disappeared shortly before his first and only child was born. It wasn’t long after that his wife fell ill and passed away. Their child was passed over and raised by relatives across the state, and the castle was left abandoned for the next twenty years, when it fell into the ownership of several owners, none ever residing in the actual building for longer than five years. _

_ In 1985, a young man named Aaravos Ehasz inherited a large sum of money from a deceased relative. He bought the castle, and resided inside the property for the next 28 years. After the disappearance and suspected kidnapping of a young girl from the town, he was called in for questioning. Very few details of the man’s death ever surfaced to the public eye, though many theorize that he faked his own demise and fled; while others suggest that he might of committed suicide in order to escape the responsibility that came with his actions. Aaravos was 48 at the time of his death. _

_ Since the incident, there has never been a family to express an interest in purchasing the mansion and live to tell the tale. Shortly after the castle was put on the market, a family of three moved in, only for the newly wed couple to be found mere months later, after a supposed suicide. Their daughter was sent off to live with a relative. _

_ After the suicides, another couple came in to tour the property. Not long after their arrival, one of the potential owners was found, having fallen off of the loft in one of the bedrooms in such a way that his neck snapped, and he was pronounced dead at the site. _

_ The castle has been vacant ever since. _

Callum stared at the “article”, biting his lip as he quickly exited out of the page.

It was a drama website, figures.

Callum grabbed his coffee, took a bite out of his jelly tart, and began the walk home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anyways RAYLLUM IS CANON MY LIFE IS COMPLETE

**Author's Note:**

> so this work was heavily inspired by a few things, like the beetlejuice musical, this creepy experience i had outside my dorm the other day, and one of my favorite danny phantom fanfics (a snapping sound. pls, go read it. it's amazing.)
> 
> anyway, after the drama with **ron *hasz, i kinda tried to force myself to stop writing tdp stuff. considering i'm posting a new tdp fanfic, i'd say that plan failed miserably. i love this show too much, though justice will not be denied when it comes to the creator.
> 
> anyway, pls leave a comment or kudos if you enjoyed!! if you notice any grammar/spelling mistakes pls dont hesitate to let me know! this is my first time actively trying to write a story like this, and i wrote like half of it in the middle of the night lol


End file.
